The Language of Death (A Darcy Sweet Coy Mystery)

by K. J. Emrick

  Now they sat at a round table with a single candle unlit in a holder between salt and pepper shakers. A long white tablecloth fell over the edge to the floor, and the napkins were cloth. It might be small, but the owners of the Armadillo made every effort to give the place an upscale feel. The menu was simple, fish and steak mostly, although Darcy selected a chicken Caesar salad that tasted better than it looked.

  They had talked about what had happened for both of them after college already, how she had gone back to Misty Hollow and now owned the bookstore her Great Aunt had originally ran, how she had been married and divorced, although she left out any mention of Jon Tinker. That, she felt, was getting a little too personal. For his part, Lorne had returned from college to take over a family business also. Selling high-end mattresses.

  He laughed when Darcy couldn't keep her expression in check. "I know, I know, it sounds ridiculous but my dad actually built the company up from nothing and now we have four outlet stores across this state, plus two warehouses. I didn't realize growing up how much money there was to be made in mattresses."

  "So Chloe was going to marry into money, was she?" Darcy said, as innocently as she could. She'd been looking for some way to turn the conversation to Chloe ever since their dinner plates had arrived. Now was her chance.

  His face fell, and Darcy was sorry for the distress she was obviously causing him. It kind of made him less of a suspect in her mind, to see how upset he got every time Chloe's name got mentioned.

  "She knew how much my family is worth, sure," he said, fiddling with the edges of his napkin. "That wasn't it, though. She and I just clicked. Haven't you ever spent time with someone and just, you know, clicked?"

  Darcy looked across the table into his blue eyes and suddenly she was tongue-tied. She had been thinking of Jon when Lorne asked that question. Now? She was thinking back to college and a night when she and Lorne had sat out under the stars and waited all night for a meteor shower that never came.

  "Um, yeah, sure," she said. She forked a bite of her salad into her mouth to give herself something else to do besides talking. When she had collected her thoughts she swallowed and tried to work up to the important questions she had to ask. "Did Chloe have epilepsy?"

  Subtle, she thought to herself. Real subtle.

  Lorne didn't seem to mind her being blunt, though. He shook his head, steepling his hands together with his elbows on the edge of the table. "No, she didn't. No one we know has seizures. I've asked myself about that, too. Asked everyone I know. Great minds think alike, I guess."

  He smiled at Darcy and she found herself smiling back. "So the question becomes…"

  "Where did she get the pills from?" He finished her question for her, his eyes sharp. "See, that's what I tried to get across to the police. Epilepsy pills? You don't just go out to your local pharmacy and buy those. They didn't even take a look at them. They just took the coroner's word for it and filed their reports. They couldn’t care less where those pills came from…"

  His smile faltered and then slipped altogether. Staring down at his plate, he pushed it away, his appetite gone. Darcy knew how he felt.

  "Lorne," she said, leaning over the table, her own food forgotten, "how well do you know Veronica? Do you trust her? Is she telling the truth about finding Chloe like that?"

  His head popped back up. "You don't think…? No. I know Veronica. Not as well as I knew you back in college, maybe, but I know she and Chloe were very good friends. They were always happy whenever they got together. I know it doesn't look like it to see her now, but Veronica is usually a fun-loving girl. Always smiling, always joking. Chloe's death hit her hard. That's why she was so distant today."

  Darcy nodded slowly, taking that information in. Lorne looked like he was on the verge of tears again. Here she was, swallowed up by her own grief, digging at Lorne's misery. Did she really think he was a suspect? How could she, seeing how much he missed Chloe? She'd known him pretty well in college, after all, and he wasn't the type who could kill someone. People change, sure, but not to that extreme. Or so she liked to believe.

  For the moment, she decided to trust him and take him at his word. She needed the help of a friend, after all. Who better than the man who was going to marry Chloe?

  "Lorne." She hesitated. He might not like what she was about to say. "I was going to go down to the Hoot Owl myself and ask if anyone remembers Veronica being there the night Chloe died. Do you maybe want to come with me?"

  He blinked. "You're checking her alibi? You don't honestly believe Veronica killed her, do you?"

  "I'm not ruling anyone out. I'm not from this town. I don't know the people. Anyone could be the killer, as far as I'm concerned." How many times had she found out that someone in her own little sleepy town of Misty Hollow wasn't who they appeared to be? Still, if she wanted Lorne's help she would probably have to soften her tone a bit. "I want to eliminate her as a suspect. How about that?"

  He wiped his mouth with his napkin, tossing it onto his half eaten steak sandwich. "I want to get to the truth as much as you do. No matter where it goes. All right. Let's go find out if Veronica is telling the truth."

  Darcy smiled. In that moment, Lorne reminded her of everything she loved most about Jon Tinker. She wished Jon was here, now, but the truth was that Lorne would probably be more help to her anyway. He would know the people in town and how to talk to them. They might open up to him a lot easier than they would to the little girl from out of town asking about people's alibis. She was glad Lorne had agreed to come with her.

  It was becoming harder not to think about him like she had in college. They were falling into old, easy ways. Darcy didn't think that was all bad.

  Reminding herself that this wasn't a date, she followed him up to the cash register while he paid the check.

  ***

  The Hoot Owl was an old and renovated train station, situated right next to a set of railroad tracks that skirted the edge of Smithsville. Apparently, Lorne explained to Darcy, back in its heyday this little town had been a hub of commerce for the state. Now, there really wasn't any reason for the railroad to stop here anymore. So some enterprising businessman had made use of the building to run a bar.

  Old railroad crossing signs decorated the walls on the outside, along with a few stop signs and a sign that read "Chicago, 30 Miles," even though they were nowhere near Chicago. The lower half of the walls had been painted red, the upper part left as bare wood. Neon signs advertising different brands of beer flashed in the windows.

  Darcy didn't go out to bars very often. Not anymore. She and Chloe and Lorne and a few others had visited more than a few back in college but after that she'd lost interest. Maybe if she and Chloe had stayed in touch, it would have been the two of them going out to bars for a drink instead of Chloe and Veronica.

  Not that she was jealous. She just was sad for missed opportunities. Life was short, she reminded herself. A girl who could see ghosts really should remember that.

  Inside there was a long, narrow room with a polished bar tucked along one wall, tall stools with leather seats lined up next to it. A few booths were set up against the opposite wall next to the jukebox. Country music played softly while neon signs buzzed on and off where they hung on the walls. A mirror reflected the whole scene, giving the room the illusion of being bigger than it was.

  A bartender, a middle-aged woman with raven black hair in a ponytail and a shirt that was cut dangerously low, laughed at something the lone customer sitting at the bar had said. The guy looked over his shoulder at Darcy and Lorne as they came inside, then turned back around to his beer. Other than those two, the place was empty.

  "Not a very popular place," Darcy remarked.

  "It doesn't start getting people in until closer to eleven o'clock when the afternoon shift at the local paper mill gets out," Lorne explained. "Bill there is the only regular who comes in this early."

  Darcy went up to the bar. When the bartender came over she debated whether she should or
der a drink to help ease into the conversation. She wasn't much of a drinker. Wine, on occasion, or sometimes a good cold beer. Thankfully Lorne took the matter out of her hands.

  "Hi, Felicity," he said to the dark haired woman. "How's business?"

  "How's it look?" she said in a low, scratchy voice, waving her hand around the emptiness. "Sometimes I wonder if I'll have a job tomorrow. Hey. I'm sorry about Chloe. She was one of the good ones."

  Darcy's throat constricted. Lorne nodded, his fingers tapping along the edge of the bar rail. "Yes. She was. She liked coming here, you know. She was supposed to come here the night she…the night they found her."

  "Really?" Felicity asked. "No way. Oh, yeah, I did see Veronica here that night, now that you say it. Those two were always coming out here for girl's night. You guys want something? Let me get you a drink. On the house."

  Lorne turned to Darcy, asking her silently if she wanted to. She nodded, but her mind was on what Felicity had just said. Veronica was here the night Chloe died. As Lorne ordered and Felicity went off to pour out wine coolers for both of them, questions swirled through Darcy's mind.

  "Did you see Veronica when she left here?" she blurted out as soon as Felicity came back with the tall frosted glasses filled with pink liquid for her and blue for Lorne.

  Felicity looked at her oddly and raised an eyebrow. "Oh," Lorne said, "sorry. Felicity, this is Darcy Sweet. She was a good friend of Chloe's from back in their college days."

  "Come for the services tomorrow, did you?" Felicity asked in that rough voice of hers. "Everybody here loved Chloe. Should be a pretty packed church. And, yeah, to answer that question I saw Veronica when she left. She kept checking her watch and her phone. I could tell something had screwed up girl's night for them. Just wish it hadn't been anything that serious."

  "Them?" Lorne asked, picking up on the same thing that Darcy had.

  "Sure. Veronica and that Sami Wilmer. You know who I mean, right? Mousy little girl. Glasses. Hangs out with Chloe and Veronica sometimes."

  Darcy took a long sip of her drink. Her mouth was suddenly dry, and she was glad that Lorne had ordered them wine coolers and nothing stronger. Sami Wilmer had been here with Veronica the night Chloe died. Did that eliminate both of them as suspects?

  She fished for some way to ask her next question. "Um. I feel bad that I missed out on this girl's night tradition. This seems like a nice place to hang out and have fun," she lied, ignoring the empty room behind her. "Sami and Veronica must have gotten here early to enjoy themselves."

  Felicity shrugged. "Not really. Veronica got here first. She was always here just after we open at six o'clock, same that night. Sami didn't show up until, well, later. A few hours, I think. She hardly ever came, for that matter. She was here that night, though. Bless her soul but Chloe was always the one who held that group together. Now that she's gone…"

  Lorne nodded and drained the rest of his glass. Darcy could see how hard this was on him. She thanked Felicity for the drinks and took Lorne's hand. "Come on, let's get out of here. I'll let you show me the town."

  His face relaxed a little as he sighed. "Yeah. There's not much to see, though. It won't take us too long."

  Darcy thanked Felicity again and even though the wine coolers had been offered for free she took two dollar bills out of her wallet and stuffed them into the tip jar. Felicity smiled at her.

  Behind Felicity, in the bar-length mirror, Chloe smiled at her too.

  The sight of her friend standing behind her shoulder, at least in the reflection, made goosebumps rise up on her arms. She stared, unable to turn away. Chloe was right there, and yet she was a world away.

  "Darcy?" Lorne asked from beside her. "What is it?"

  "Uh, nothing. Sorry. I thought I saw something," she said sheepishly. She had seen something all right, but now was definitely not the time or the place to try explaining to Lorne that she could see dead people.

  But when she looked back up into the mirror, there was her friend. Chloe, in her faded blue jeans and her top with its oversized arms. Chloe waved and winked at Darcy, pointing a thumb at Lorne. The look on her face was easy to read. "Isn't he gorgeous?"

  Darcy's embarrassment deepened. How often had she and Chloe played this game in college? Spot the cutest guy in the room. Obviously, Chloe had mastered their little game, because she was right. Lorne was everything a girl could want in a guy. Handsome, caring, sensitive. Darcy had known it back in college. Chloe had been the one to follow through on it after graduation.

  She rolled her eyes at Chloe's ghostly reflection and couldn't help but smile. She wished Chloe could meet Jon. Jon was very different from Lorne, in a lot of ways, but it would be game on if she and Chloe got together with their men.

  Of course, Lorne was here. Jon was off finding himself or whatever it was men did when they got scared of commitment.

  Chloe's expression changed and she stretched out her hands toward Darcy as if she could reach through the mirror for real. It was like she could read Darcy's thoughts. Or maybe what Darcy was thinking was just that easy to see on her face. Even to a ghost.

  "Come on," she said abruptly to Lorne. She needed to get out of here. Seeing Chloe there, knowing that she couldn't touch her, couldn't speak to her, was too much. "We should go. You promised to show me the town, remember?"

  She could talk to Chloe about Jon and other matters of the living some other time. Right now, she wanted to concentrate on finding her friend's killer.

  ***

  Smithsville, as a tourist attraction, would definitely be a failure.

  As a quaint little town tucked into the exact center of nowhere, though, it was worth a walking tour. Lorne showed Darcy the Town Hall, and the library, and the little playground where kids usually played during the day and where teenagers had come to hang out now that the sun had gone down. There were little dress shops and hair salons and hobby shops, and a bridge in the center of town that crossed over a wide, rushing river.

  Streetlights illuminated the sidewalk ahead of them as they made a circle around the streets, not really going anywhere but knowing they eventually had to trace back to Lorne's car. All the while Darcy's mind worked at puzzle pieces and clues. From about six o'clock on the night of Chloe's death until Chloe was found, Veronica had been at the Hoot Owl bar. Sami Wilmer, on the other hand, hadn't shown up there until a couple of hours later. Not only that but Sami didn't usually go out with Veronica and Chloe. Was It possible that it had been Sami who poisoned Chloe with the medication? Coming to the bar after could be her way of giving herself an alibi.

  Which would be a great theory, except that Darcy was missing a key piece of evidence.

  "Lorne," she asked, "what time did Chloe die? Does the coroner know?"

  He had respected her silence through most of their walk, trying to draw her into conversations and failing, then just walking quietly beside her. Now he looked at her intently, eager to dive back into the investigation of Chloe's death. "Officially, he listed the time of death at between six-thirty and seven-thirty."

  "Officially?" she asked.

  He nodded, stopping at a part of the sidewalk near the post office where no one was around. "Unofficially, he told Chloe's mom that there could be a half hour leeway on that to either side. Still, that's between six and eight. So Veronica couldn't have done it, right? Felicity said Veronica was there right after the Hoot Owl opened at six o'clock."

  Darcy caught a strand of her hair and twisted it between her fingers. "I don't know. I guess so. But Chloe was poisoned. She wasn't stabbed, or shot. She was given an overdose of epilepsy medication. I don't know how quickly something like that takes effect. Veronica could have forced the pills into Chloe's system somehow, and then left immediately for the bar, and still been there by six. I think all this does is put her lower down on the suspect list."

  "Lower than Sami?" he asked.

  "Um. Yes. Look, I'm sorry about this. About Chloe dying, I mean, but also I'm sorry that I'm accusing al
l these people that you know. I've never met any of them. I don't know anything about them so I'm not letting personal feelings get in my way. It must be hard for you, though."

  He tilted his head back and forth, considering. "I suppose. I don't like to think that either of them could have killed my Chloe. But at the same time, I can't let my emotions get in my way. This is too important. I have to say, Darcy, you're really good at this. It's almost like you're a detective yourself or something."

  Oh, if you only knew, she thought. "I've helped the police before. On a few things." She left it at that and when she didn't say any more he didn't pry. Darcy could see why Chloe liked him so much. He'd always been a good friend. He'd grown into a good man.

  "So where does that leave us?" Lorne asked. "Or, where does it lead us, I guess. Do we know any more than we did a few hours ago?"

  "I think we do," Darcy said. "It's a start, anyway. If Chloe didn't have any enemies that you know about, we have to concentrate on the people she did know. The people who would be able to get close enough to poison her in the first place.

  Lorne quickly shook his head. "No one hated Chloe. You heard Felicity back at the bar. Everyone loved her."

  That was Darcy's memory of Chloe, too. No matter who she met, everyone came to love her. Suddenly, she felt very tired. "Take me back to my motel, please? I have something I need to do before I can get some sleep."

  Darcy was going to use the start they'd made and build on it, but she couldn't let Lorne see what she was going to do. She doubted that he was ready to see her raise up a spirit to talk to.

  Especially when that spirit was going to be Chloe.

  Chapter Five

  Back at her motel, Darcy stifled a yawn. It had been a long day. A long couple of days, for that matter. She really shouldn't do what she was contemplating when she was this tired. There just wasn't a whole lot of choice. Some answers could only come from the source.